Dancing in the Dark
by RawMateriel
Summary: Sometimes you have to learn to laugh to let go of the past. Andromeda Black doesn't really care about that though. She just wants to kiss Hermione's pretty face. Time travel, and cliches ahead. Written for the QLFC.
1. Jean

Written for Season 4 of the QLFC, Round 7.

Title: Dancing in the Dark

Team: Wigtown Wanderers

Position: Chaser 2

Ship: Andromeda/Hermione

Optional Prompts:

1\. (word) bond

4\. (poem) 'A Late Walk' by Robert Frost

10\. (creature) Boggart

Word Count: 2,980

Beta(s): CrazyRopeDragon, Dolby Digital (Thank you!)

* * *

The first thing Hermione noticed was the tangle of sheets trapping her feet. She pretended it didn't bother her, even though there was only herself to fool. Four nights in a row she had woken up like this. Eyes eventually opening when her crimson quilt wouldn't allow her to toss and turn anymore.

Terrible things happen to those who meddle with time. She sighed, and pressed her face further into her pillow. Surely she would fall back asleep.

Circulation was cut off from her foot, and she gave up. She reached for her wand under her pillow.

"Relashio," she whispered, the bed released her, she climbed to her feet. She took her wand, and crept out into the peace of the warmly lit hall. She pressed her cheek to the dormitory door as she closed it, taking comfort in the worn wood.

What the school had allowed her to do in her third year was wrong. They may as well have given her cocaine, so that she could have the energy to take some extra classes. It was a catastrophe waiting to happen. It wasn't until two years on that she had really started to experience the trauma.

She had travelled in time to save Sirius Black, but he'd still died. It was as though all that she had accomplished using the Time Turner had tipped a scale, and the world was going to right itself. It filled her with dread, and when she thought of Sirius, guilt. It felt like a debt that she wracked up, but she wasn't the one paying it.

She pushed away from the door, and took another step into the corridor. There was a white candle flickering cheerfully in a bracket on the wall across from her. It sputtered, and was blown out as if by an invisible wind. The shadows deepened. Hermione narrowed her eyes accusingly at the smoking wick, and flinched at a creaking in the gloom.

"Aparecium," she said, pointing her wand in the direction of the disturbance. There was a clunk, as though something had fallen off of a table.

"Lumos." Her wand flooded the hall with light, and revealed a drawer blown out from a teetering stand. A streak of colour burst forth from the drawer, and a girl emerged. A bushy-haired thirteen year old Hermione Granger. Her older, pajama-clad counterpart hesitated at the sight of her worn-out past-self. The doppelganger walked briskly over to her.

The younger girl pulled a fine gold chain from under her jumper, and Hermione's gut clenched with fear. The sight of the girl may have been a shock, but the object she was now brandishing encouraged Hermione to hold her wand at the ready.

There had to be an explanation for this. Hermione stumbled back as the distance closed between them. She wanted to call out, but what if her younger self had somehow travelled forward in time? What if she was standing in the corridor for a reason? These thoughts were pushed to the back of her mind when the _other_ Hermione lifted the Time Turner over her head, and lunged forward.

"Stop!" Hermione said, as the _other_ tried to lasso her with the chain. She was increasingly aware of her heart in her chest, the weary state of her mind made the strange moment stranger. Suddenly, despite the fear and the exhaustion, Hermione realised what was going on. She lifted her wand:

"Riddikulus!" Hermione aimed squarely for the Boggart's chest, just as the creature managed to wrangle her with the chain. The creature flinched, and shifted so that a gaunt Sirius Black stood before her, dressed as a prisoner once more.

The illusion was horribly convincing; she could smell the gunk matted into his hair. The Boggart was so much taller than her now it had no trouble pushing the Time Turner down completely over head. The _other_ Sirius then lifted the small charm, and flicked it. Hermione's mouth fell open, the hourglass span rapidly. She shook her head, and pushed the dead man off of her. She tried to pull the Time Turner off but the room was spinning, this couldn't work, could it?

* * *

Andromeda stirred her soup robotically. Five years she had been attending Hogwarts, and only last week did she spot the love of her life, and it was a bloody woman. She'd avoided seeking her out since the night in the library. She'd resisted for three days, but she'd seen her again in the Astronomy Tower that morning, and she'd felt like she was in a trance ever since.

She scanned the Hufflepuff table with all the subtlety she could, but being sly wasn't her strong suit. If she was in Slytherin for any reason it wasn't because of her sneakiness, it was her drive. Her determination. She only wished that she could want someone appropriate, instead of this… this mess.

"You're going to need a house elf to shove your eyes back into your skull." Sirius had made his way over to her.

"And you're going to need a dozen to remove your head from your arse." Sirius smiled warmly at her harsh remark, and nudged her with his elbow.

"Woah, tetchy."

"Should you really be over here?" she asked.

"At the Ravenclaw table? No, I suppose not." Andromeda raised her eyebrows.

"I'm not— oh Merlin." Andromeda looked around, and met the eyes of a puzzled looking boy in blue across the table. Sirius shrugged at him. She was about to melt into a pile of mortified goop, when _she_ walked into the hall.

"I came over to check if you'd been confunded." Sirius waved a hand in front of her face, Andromeda grabbed his hand, and dragged it out of her line of vision to see the bushy-haired dream girl.

"Maybe I have." Sirius snorted, and joined her in observing the Hufflepuff miracle.

"That's that Hufflepuff that was caught wandering around the girls dormitory in the middle of the night last week."

"Hardly odd, considering she's a girl."

"Something you've clearly come to appreciate," Sirius said, lowering his voice.

"Shut up." The girl in question was walking hesitantly over to the Hufflepuff table, as if she were expecting an ambush. "Do you know her?"

"Her name's Jean, I think. Anyway, it was strange because it was the girls dormitory in Gryffindor tower. The boys reckon she was up there for more than makeup tips, if you know what I mean." He nudged her again.

"It wouldn't be the first time I heard a rumour like that." Her cousin narrowed his eyes, and then grinned.

"Oi, Jean!" he shouted across the hall, and the girl froze halfway into her chair. She stood up straight, and turned slowly. She looked very nervous, and very beautiful.

"Hi?" she asked, her voice was quiet, but it carried. Despite the dark colour of her skin, it was clear that she was flushed with colour. It seemed as though she was searching for the source of the voice at the Gryffindor table.

"Over here!" She found them then, and her eyes widened. She spotted Sirius, and then found Andromeda, no doubt painted sixty shades of pink. Damnitall. Sirius gestured at _Jean_ to come over. She didn't: she smiled politely, turned her back, and sat down. Her eyes had been dark, and fierce.

"She seems a bit shy to be creeping into bed with Marlene McKinnon in the middle of the night."

"McKinnon?" Jean didn't seem so shy.

"What's it to you?"

"You're such a gossip."

* * *

The bathroom on the second floor was deserted as usual, one nice addition being that even Myrtle seemed to have abandoned it for the evening. Hermione almost cried with relief at the extent of the solitude. She had been speaking with Dumbledore again, the only person she had allowed herself to reveal anything to. She moved over to the window, and scowled out over the lake.

She had to get back before she made a horrible mistake, or any sort of mistake. She had been down this road before, but at least then she had had a purpose, or instructions from Dumbledore. Even with those things the results of what she had done had filled her with regret. She hadn't done enough, she'd failed. When she saw everyone here, knowing what she knew was torture. The temptation was too much to take, God help her, she just wanted to give in.

The Headmaster refused to say it, but it was obvious that he would welcome some information from her. He knew better, but he clearly hungered for it. They both did, the exchange of knowledge, the prevention of bloodshed. _Harry_. She was so lonely.

This was why she needed to be alone, and remain alone. Dumbledore had given her access to any relevant books he could find, and was reasonable enough to do some research on her behalf. They would get her home; if she had to find that Boggart, and personally strangle it, she'd get home.

She thought maybe she could end all of this, if she could just let go of her fear. Wherever that creature was, she was still bonded to it. She needed joy to break away. If she could only laugh she might stop feeding it, but all that she felt when she looked at the people here was helplessness, and dread. When they smiled at her, she froze. It was a cage of thought, if she could only think her way out.

Do something that would force the penny to drop. She was so scared to fail again, and there was nothing about it that amused her.

* * *

The Slytherin common room was packed to the gills, and everyone was in high spirits as they chatted about the upcoming match. Andromeda was not in the mood for any of it. Truthfully, she was a bit miserable. She wandered out of the dungeon, and made her way up to the library.

The library was empty aside from bloody Jean, who had her gorgeous head buried in a bloody book. Andromeda hesitated in the door of the library, like a racing Hippogriff waiting for the hatch to open.

She could not go over there.

She could not pursue a woman.

She had to marry a Zabini or a Malfoy, and give birth to his heir and a spare.

There was no room for feelings like these. For mistakes.

She shouldn't be fixing her long, dark hair, she shouldn't be biting the red back into her lips, she shouldn't be trying to read the title of the girl's book from a distance, so that she could think of something clever to say. She knew better.

She walked over, tugging at the hem of her skirt, and then paused, and pretended to be looking at a book discarded on a desk nearby.

Jean looked at her then. She seemed startled at the interruption, but she didn't shy away. Andromeda knew she shouldn't. She was already in enough trouble with her parents for trying her best. Salazar forbid she should allow herself to do her worst.

She decided the library was off limits for the night. Andromeda knew herself, she was too impulsive to be left alone with Jean. She balled her hands into fists, and left.

* * *

Hermione eyed the girl from a well concealed corner in the entrance hall, where she sat reading about Time Turners and their uncommon uses. This girl was the reason she wasn't nestled away in the library. When Hermione had seen her earlier in the week, she had been sure it was Bellatrix Black, but looking at her now she felt a rush of relief. She had been mistaken.

It wouldn't do for her to have caught Bellatrix's attention. Hermione smiled softly as the Slytherin girl stood, and contemplated the bannister. After a quick glance around she hopped onto it, and slid down at top speed. She didn't cry-out, instead she gasped softly, before clattering to the bottom. She managed to stay on her feet, but only just. Hermione was surprised when her smile widened. She was _very_ glad to discover this wasn't Bellatrix.

The Slytherin girl bit the tip of her tongue, as she plaited her dark hair at the bottom of the stairs. Hermione felt a rush of nostalgia when she remembered that Sirius shared the habit, and Tonks as well. Tonks, of course!

"Andromeda!" Hermione exclaimed to herself, but the hall was nearly empty, and the name practically ricocheted around them. Andromeda's eyes found her instantly, her heavy lids made her expression sultry even in confusion.

"Jean?" she asked, as if she couldn't believe it. Hermione gaped like a fish, and then for some reason said:

"I'm fine." Andromeda's hands fell away from her hair. Something passed between them. Hermione imagined this is what it felt like to stare into the eyes of a bull: inevitable.

Andromeda smiled widely, looking every bit like she was about to throw caution to the wind. As though she intended to close the space between them, and ask 'Jean' about that rumour going around that she liked girls.

"Okay," Andromeda said, and the spell broke. When Andromeda abruptly turned, and walked out the castle doors, Hermione immediately wished that she'd done something, and then thanked God that she hadn't.

* * *

Andromeda was following her. Hermione had tested it a few times. First Andromeda would spot her, and smile, and say:

"Jean." Like it was a bad word, like she had her own rules about this, and she was breaking them too. Then Hermione would nod, and take a pointless route that led them both back to where they'd met. Andromeda would always be there, and the spell would be cast, and then she'd leave, and it would break.

Hermione tried to tell herself that it was annoying, that the only reason she didn't confront the girl was because it was dangerous, but a part of her knew that this little game of cat-and-mouse was keeping her going.

She was so isolated, and even though these almost interactions were dangerous for both of them, Andromeda was starting to feel like a friend. A strange, predatory friend who was unwittingly putting the future of the wizarding world in jeopardy, but also someone who, well, looked at her.

Hermione knew she should be scared, but Andromeda was exciting, and oddly flirtatious. So Hermione did the unthinkable: she smiled back, she waited out in the open to be found, and she tried to lead Andromeda, whether she could admit it or not.

* * *

Andromeda stood in the Owlery, quill and parchment in hand, at a total loss. Andromeda's Mother had sent a letter about a holiday she was planning with Andromeda's Aunt Walburga. They were going to Paris and wanted to see how she was doing and if she wanted anything. It was one of the nicer letters Andromeda had received from home, and she should've been able to take pleasure in it, but it instead it just filled her with guilt. She rubbed impatiently at her eyes which burned a little. She wanted to respond in kind, write something that would encourage her Mother's affection for her but she was so ashamed she couldn't shape a thought.

She felt a bizarre desire to confess, to seek comfort or advice. Maybe even just to have the sense jinxed into her and get it over with. But truthfully, the path she was headed down now would take more than a stinging hex to fix. What was she doing?

Worst of all she felt pressure to respond quickly, because even though she knew it shouldn't be a factor it was coming up to the time she usually went to meet Jean and she hadn't seen her kind eyes all day. Andromeda should be focusing on her duty to her family, not following a girl who was almost certainly muggleborn like some kind of stray dog. A girl who was clearly determined to keep her distance.

"Oh, uhm." Speak of the devil.

"Jean," Andromeda said, putting the quill down on the ledge and smiling. It amused Andromeda every time, it was thrilling and ridiculous how they were carrying on together. How Jean would make the first move over and over, like rereading the first chapter of a book.

Jean nodded as if to acknowledge her like any other passerby, and turned to leave as if seeing Andromeda wasn't all she came to do. Andromeda was about to throw her stuff in her bag so they walk alone.. together, when Jean paused in the door frame. This was different.

"Are you alright?" Jean asked without turning back to face her, and Andromeda's eyes just about bugged out of her head.

"Oh Jean, first you're breaking their rules, and now ours?" Andromeda teased, flirting aloud for the first time among the owl droppings. At least they were alone.

"Our rules?" Jean shrugged. "They're just an extension of everyone else's."

"Do I look awful or something?" Andromeda asked, smoothing her hair which admittedly was a little windswept from the stairs on the way up.

"You know how you look," Jean said, turning it seemed just to roll her eyes. Then the Hufflepuff was looking at Andromeda for the second time in a row which didn't happen often, and she was looking closely. "You've heard something from home?" She asked after a beat, getting to the heart of the issue in a moments scrutiny. Andromeda blanched, unused to speaking openly with people outside of her house or family.

"Yes, just normal family news, nothing bad. What was it you were saying about me being good looking?" Andromeda tried to play it off, not wanting to discuss her family now that she and Jean were actually _talking._

"I didn't— They've upset you," Jean stated, stepping toward Andromeda for a change. Andromeda momentarily felt an absurd desire to step back, as if her ancestors had tied an invisible rope around her and were trying to drag her back on course. Jean paused at arms length and glanced rather obviously at the blank parchment between them on the ledge.

"No. Not really, nosy," Andromeda said, reaching out and pulling the unwritten letter toward as if it was some private important document. She immediately regretted the bite in her tone. Jean lifted her chin sternly.

"You're not upset?" She asked, almost business like and Andromeda rubbed at her eye self-consciously.

"No," Andromeda insisted, sounding upset.

"So, you haven't been crying?" Jean pressed, her voice softer.

"I wasn't actually," Andromeda said, looking away, so confused and mortified at the thought that she might actually start crying now, in front of Jean. "I was just welling up a bit."

"What did they say to you?!" Jean asked, with some urgency, her hand finding it's way onto the flare of her hip and Andromeda's eye following it.

"My Mother said she'd pick me up something from Paris," Andromeda said, crossing her arms over her chest blank parchment in hand. "And they sent their love," she whispered to the ground, and Merlin help her, her voice caught and her eyelids were hot with tears as she closed her eye against them. It was in the same breath that Jean was on her, pulling her so close and tight it felt like being hugged by someone much bigger. Someone big enough to keep her safe, and that thought alone was enough to break down what was left of Andromeda's reserve because it felt _so_ good to be held by her. So right, and that didn't stop it from being wrong. She didn't want to face how wrong it was. She didn't want to turn away from the safety of Jean's coy dance to face it. "I just miss them," she mumbled into Jean's jumper.

Jean nodded, but there must've been something in her that couldn't accept this explanation, because while Andromeda tried and failed to pull herself together Jean said: "Is that all?" In a tight voice that sounded like it was trying to stop the words forming even as they were spoken.

"I really like you," Andromeda blurted, still hidden in her shoulder. In that moment the desire to get her feelings out over road her desire to keep them in and she felt more confused then ever as she was rushed with relief and excitement and embarrassment. "Sorry," she choked.

"No, I— Thanks," Jean replied, and a tentative hand touched the back of Andromeda's head. Gently, Jean carded her fingers through Andromeda's hair.

"I can't stop myself liking you, but I'm not a— I can't like you."

"I understand," Jean muttered, but Andromeda felt the need to explain anyway.

"It's just that things are going well with my family right now, and it's probably just because Bella's finished school and she's living at home." Miraculously Andromeda managed to pull away then, leaning back against the ledge and taking a deep breath. Jean sat beside her, and after a moments hesitation reached out to rub her arm.

"Bella's your sister?" Jean asked and Andromeda sighed.

"Yes, and she's like this perfect, loyal daughter. She never fucks up, this would never happen to her. She's so powerful, she makes Cissy and me look like a pair of Squibs so usually they don't write to me. But all of the things that make Bella their golden girl can't change the fact that she's completely unbearable to live with."

Then for the first time Andromeda heard Jean laugh, and it seemed to make the ground shake. It was all Andromeda wanted to hear her laugh again. "Sorry," she said, grinning ruefully, and restraining herself. "She sounds like a pain, I guess you feel bad about uhm... well, making friends with someone your family might not approve of when things are going well."

"Right," Andromeda said, blowing out a shaky breath. "My Mother would never usually get me a gift for no reason, you know? I just... I feel like I'm letting her down, and then I hate myself for feeling that way Jean, because your fantastic and it's them. They have a problem, not you. I'm letting myself down just for thinking that way."

"But they're your family."

Andromeda hid her face in her hands, and shook her head. She was going to say it, but she couldn't get the words out. That if her family knew her, really knew her, they wouldn't love her. It was true they were her family, but for how long?

* * *

After that Hermione tried to stay away. She felt foolish for underestimating how much turmoil being involved with a woman, in however tame a sense, could cause for someone in Andromeda's position. Plus Hermione knew Andromeda's daughter, Andromeda was destined to have a family of her own, and eventually escape the fanaticism of her upbringing without _Jean_ having any part in it.

But with all of that in mind, it had only been three days and Hermione had missed their walks desperately. Missed _her_ desperately. She should have more sense than this, she lay in bed and stared at the ceiling, pleading with herself not to let her emotions get the best of her. She wished she hadn't stopped to talk to her, her husky voice whispering into her hair. Pale eyes searching.

* * *

It was chance the next time they met, and it was with some frost in her tone that Andromeda greeted her. She probably didn't take to being avoided as Hermione had been camping out in the Hufflepuff common room.

"Jean," she said, like a dismissal. Hermione, of course, nodded and walked on. For some strange reason she actually believed for a moment that Andromeda wouldn't follow her, but of course, didn't she always?

Hermione led her out to the freshly reaped pumpkin patch, eventually stopping in the middle. Breaking their rules for the second time, Hermione stood among the freshly cut stems. Andromeda stood on the other end of Hermione's trodden path. She had stopped at the gate, and was partially concealed by a naked tree.

"You're following me." Andromeda stepped out into what was left of the evening light. The wind rustled her hair, and she was smiling like she was keeping a wonderful secret.

"You don't go to any classes," she said, instead of responding to the accusation.

"Not with you."

"Not at all."

"Are you going to tell on me?"

"Jean." This time, when she said her 'name', it was like a confession. "It's like you don't know me at all."

"I don't know you at all." Andromeda bent, and plucked a wilting flower from the base of the tree. She twirled it at the stem between her fingers.

"But I know you." She took a step forward. "You're like me, trying to follow the rules, and break them at the same time. Dancing around it. Around this."

"This?" The spell was cast. Inevitable, Andromeda was doing it; walking toward her, fussing with her glossy hair. Flirting like her life depended on it.

"Us, or is there something else that you're afraid of? I wonder what's stopping you though, it's obvious what's stopping me. Look at me." Hermione did. She had stopped a foot away. Hermione made a show of measuring her up. She reached out, and ran one hand over the edge of Andromeda's cloak, as if to straighten it. Her hand shook. This was madness.

"Like we discussed, pretty, white Purebloods have... duties," Hermione said.

"Is that why you've been avoiding me? You think I want that?" Andromeda asked, reaching up to hold Hermione's hand on her label.

"I know you don't want that, but it doesn't matter what we want. It doesn't change anything." For some reason Hermione didn't pull her hand away.

"We?"

"I... these are just feelings, alright? There bigger things going on in the world right now than our feelings." Andromeda tapped her nose with the flower.

" _Our_ feelings?" She quizzed, raising an eyebrow and grinning wickedly.

"Shut your mouth," Hermione warned.

"Or what? You'll shut it for me?" Andromeda was very close to her now, she seemed to be transforming into that bull before Hermione's very eyes, all of the doubt of the last few days paling in the face of her tenacity. It shouldn't have been so alluring.

"You said yourself you can't like me, we can't—"

 _"_ Agreed, I think to myself: smart, sexy, mysterious, thinks I'm pretty. Who would give up the chance to be a part of a three hundred year old cycle of inbreeding, and violence, just for that?" Hermione laughed despite herself, and the sensation was so unfamiliar it shocked her. It was almost dizzying.

"We should stop," she protested, smiling. Andromeda held Hermione's hand over her heart, and passed her the blue flower. Hermione took it, and admired it's papery petals.

"I don't care if there's a big clock over our heads Jean. I just wanted a moment with you." Andromeda leaned a little closer, and despite the utter bravado of the come on, Hermione's breath caught.

"That doesn't sound so frightening," Hermione sighed, drinking up the space between them as it disappeared and feeling it cloud her mind like an opiate.

"Speak for yourself," Andromeda laughed right against her lips. "I'm terrified."

When Andromeda kissed her, she was amazed that it still felt so unexpected. She moved almost like she'd been startled, but when she felt the satin of Andromeda's skin under her fingers she remembered how this kiss was a foregone conclusion. Hermione melted that bit closer, and just let everything go as she clung to her. She should've known she couldn't outrun Andromeda, she should've admitted sooner that she didn't want to.

After a moment Andromeda pulled away, it seemed, just to grin at her. Hermione felt the odd desire to hide her blushing face. A small pleased noise found it's way out of her throat, and before she knew it she was giggling for nerves, and relief, and _she's kissing me, she's kissing me, she's kissing me._

Then Andromeda was kissing her cheeks, and her nose, and her eyelids, and her mouth again, and Hermione couldn't stop laughing. She had her.

"Jean!" Andromeda said, and she spoke as if to remind her that there wasn't a frightening thing in the world, and Hermione believed her. She couldn't stop smiling, after so many weeks of wallowing. They laughed, and kissed, until Hermione thought she would burst.

* * *

The stars began to peek out in the still pale night sky, and Hermione wasn't afraid, not even when the pumpkin patch started spinning. In fact she hardly noticed, until she stood alone in the dead of night. Holding the last blue aster flower of an Autumn which had faded twenty years before.


	2. Inevitable

a/n: I was really pleased with the feedback I got for this story, but I had a lot of really kind readers ask for a continuation. Immediately I was like 'Yes of course I will write it right away!" but when I read over what I had I really didn't know how to take it forward. Fortunately at 1am, before a 6am shift in work it hit me:

* * *

Standing in the pumpkin patch, Hermione could tell immediately from slight changes in her environment that she was back where she belonged. Everything from the grot on the back of Hagrid's cabin, to the state of the worn path to the Thestral patch in the forest that had been walked out by Luna Lovegood in passing months, told her that she was back in her own time atlast, and alone.

Spinning the small blue plant in her fingers, Hermione did some quick maths and worked out that the now married Andromeda was twenty five years older than her, give or take. She dropped the flower like it scolded her skin, and prepared to turn on her heel and rush back up to the castle. But as quick as she had let go, she bent and lifted the precious thing back up. She was filled with a raging mixture of emotions. On unsteady feet she began to retrace the path she had led Andromeda down all those years ago, terrified at what she might discover once she reached the top. She hoped desperately that she hadn't caused any major damage, her stomach twisted in a knot at the thought and she picked up the pace.

When she was nearer the entrance she paused, judging by the moon high over head it was well past curfew, hopefully on the same night of her disappearance. In case she was walking into a place drastically different, Hermione cast a disillusionment charm over herself, and silenced her footsteps. After the distracting sensation of the charm had trickled past her ankles, and with utmost care, she crept up the castle steps and pushed open the door to the main entrance. There were other ways into the castle of course, but the Gryffindor in her schooled her to hide in plain sight. Once she closed the heavy door behind her, she turned and closed her eyes in a moment of silent gratitude. Flames burned low in torches lining the walls, filling the hall with enough light for her night-blasted pupils to make out the familiar room. So far, all was as she left it. The surest sign was the set of hourglasses over head. The points the houses had earned to win the cup were all represented on large counters, and she noted with a sigh of relief that the distribution was the same as she remembered it being before. Feeling hopeful, Hermione made it to the stair case without incident and smiled at the memory of watching Andromeda play on the old banister.

Moving soundlessly Hermione placed her invisible feet over the spot Andromeda had landed and turned to face the spot she herself had been concealed when she had recognised her. Her face which had been stinging with the cold after her midnight walk up to the castle was now over warm. She blamed the torches burning nearby. Cursing herself even as she felt the flutter in her chest. Part of her foolishly desired to jump about shouting _she likes me_ , as if there was anything to be done about it, as if the crush who had just kissed her wasn't locked away in the past where she belonged.

Pressing her lips into a tight line Hermione rolled her eyes at her own preposterous behaviour, and tiptoed up the stairs. Hermione wasn't even of age, she was in no position to pursue a forty something year old Andromeda Black, to whom she must be no more than a distant childhood sweetheart. Andromeda had probably come to think of Jean the Hufflepuff as some kind of apparition or a teenage wet dream. Perhaps Dumbledore had even been so kind as to erase the memories of the students once she was gone. After all he had cast a fairly strong confundus charm on the Hufflepuff house when initially introducing to their dormitory. More likely again, Hermione had never truly moved back in time and that was just one hell of a Boggartmare.

She made it to the Gryffindor common room, and whispered the password which was accepted. Smiling she stepped inside and nearly shouted an exclamation when she saw she was not alone.

"Ah, Miss. Granger, you have returned as promised," Albus Dumbledore spoke, turning away from the fire to face her as if he was just trying to distribute the warmth of it's flame evenly.

"Professor," Hermione spoke, and cleared her throat when there was no sound. She swallowed the strangeness of the fact that the last time she had spoken to someone had been over twenty years previous. With that in mind she quickly remembered herself and removed the spells she had used to conceal herself with a wave of her wand.

"I'm glad to see you've returned to us unharmed, though I must admit I am marvelously curious as to how you did it. Moving forward in time is unprecedented and I must say that I was a little peeved that you had solved the riddle before I had myself," Dumbledore mused, pulling a set of boxes from the pocket of what Hermione belatedly realised was a very grand pair of pajamas. "Chocolate frog?" He offered. Hermione walked across the space between them and took the preferred box.

"Thank you, Headmaster." Hermione smiled, aware that chocolate after the shock that she'd had shouldn't be underestimated.

"So, now that I've seen you're safe, you've kept me in suspense long enough. Before you go to bed, tell me: how did you do it?" Dumbledore asked a question he had been sitting on since before she was born.

Hermione smiled around a bite of chocolate and shrugged. "How does anyone beat a Boggart? I'm sorry to say there was no magic involved at all. I just laughed, and before I knew it: I was home," she replied. After a beat, Dumbledore chortled, and thinking of all that had happened Hermione joined him.

* * *

When Hermione lay in bed, the flower safely pressed in the book at her bedside and the familiar sound of her classmates sleeping around her, Hermione thought again of Andromeda. Andromeda who had been her only comfort for so long. When she had been lost in time, it had made sense to think of the girl each night before sleeping. She was the closest thing Hermione had to a companion, and a welcome if not questionable distraction. Now that Hermione was home she ought to turn her mind to other things, all of the responsibilities which she had fought so hard to get back to. There was so much left to do.

* * *

Although Hermione had quizzed Dumbledore thoroughly on the state of affairs concerning her friends and the state of the future at large, it was still elating to see each familiar face as her first morning home wore on.

"Seamus!" Hermione cried, throwing her arms around the Irish boy and holding him at arms length in the next instant to get a proper look at him. "Have you grown?" She asked, and he adopted the expression between concern and amusement she had been seeing all morning.

"I doubt that I have since yesterday," he replied, catching Fred Weasley's eye from where he stood behind her.

"Don't mind her Seamus, she's just feeling sentimental," Fred informed the confused lad, and George appeared from no where to sling an arm around Hermione.

"She's been waiting at the end of the dormitory stairs and squealing all morning," George added, and Hermione pushed him away still grinning.

"I have not," she chided, but then Harry appeared. "Harry! You're up," she _may_ have squealed. He grinned down at her, as much as he adored his friend and her honesty, and wit, it was rare for him to see her looking so _enthusiastic_ over nothing.

"You're looking rather jubilant," even as he said it, Hermione came bounding up the stairs. She pulled him into a tight hug before he'd reached the second step, rewarding him with a mouth full of Hermione's signature fro which seemed to have grown over night.

"You shouldn't have used such a big word," George chastised.

"You know what she's like," Fred said, shaking his head.

"Hopeless," they said together, greatly anticipating Ron's entrance. They had been enjoying the spectacle all morning.

* * *

After the excitement of greeting Gryffindor house had passed Hermione had managed to vent enough enthusiasm to face going to breakfast. As the students entered the Great Hall Hermione spoke energetically to her friends about this and that, only pausing when Luna had walked in. Hermione had nearly knocked over Harry's pumpkin juice in her haste to wave at her brightly. The dreamy Ravenclaw had waved vaguely back, as if such a thing happened everyday and the two of them didn't spend eighty percent of their conversations at odds.

"Alright Hermione, not that it's not lovely to see you in such a good mood, but that's the third time you've nearly knocked something over to greet someone this morning. Care to explain what it is that you're so happy about?" Ron asked, so absorbed in Hermione's strange behaviour he'd only made it through one course of breakfast.

"Maybe she's in love," Ginny joked, elbowing Hermione, and at that the light behind Hermione's smile fell. Leaving her bright expression to slip away like an odd echo.

"I love you all," Hermione said eventually, her tone taking on a new layer of sentimentality. Harry, typically awkward about emotional situations that didn't involve imminent danger patted her arm uselessly.

"Thanks Hermione," he said, and Hermione felt utterly grateful for his rubbish effort. Ginny elbowed her again.

"Prat," the youngest Weasley scoffed, smiling warmly. Hermione rolled her eyes, and thanked the stars again that everything was just as she left it. When the door to the Great Hall opened she glanced over to see if it was Neville who had yet to make it downstairs for his patented _I didn't destroy your existence when I traveled in time and I missed you_ greeting, but it wasn't Neville.

"No," Hermione whispered, watching as _she_ walked in, dressed in blue silk with a smile on her sultry face. A boy was on her left, also dressed in Beauxbaton robes, but he looked completely unfamiliar.

"Did you forget about the exchange?" Ginny asked, gauging the confused expression on her friend's face.

"What?" Hermione asked, attempting to school her features and failing miserably.

"This is the term that Blaise and Cho are going to France, and we're taking the Beauxbaton students. I still don't know why they didn't send you instead of her, although of course I'd much rather you stayed," Ginny said, looking far too pleased at the prospect of seeing the back of Cho Chang.

"The new girl looks fit anyway," George mused.

"I did miss seeing the last lot flouncing around in that Beauxbaton blue," Fred sighed nostalgically.

As Dumbledore stood to announce the new students, Hermione watched Andromeda look over the Hufflepuff table, and then Ravenclaw. But it couldn't be Andromeda who's brow furrowed as she then looked to Slytherin, and slowly turned to Gryffindor. Oh, but there was no denying it then. Time slowed, and the moment dragged out as slowly as the wicked smile spreading across Andromeda's ruby mouth. Hermione made an excuse she forgot as soon as she finished speaking, and tripped as she left.

But they'd played this game before, and Hermione felt a thrill in the knowledge that Andromeda would most certainly follow her, that confrontation was _inevitable._

* * *

a/n: I would never have come back to this if it wasn't for the feedback of some very generous readers so thank you for taking the time, because I'm excited to be back writing with my girls ^.^


	3. Adela

"Jean?!" She cried out into the night, tears streaming down her face, dirt tracking up the back of her legs as she ran deeper into the forest. "For the cunning of Salazar, answer me!" She insisted.

Had it been some magical creature which had secreted Jean away? It was as though the girl had Disapparated, but it wasn't possible. Abruptly, Andromeda tripped and fell amongst the undergrowth. Wet leaves were caught in her hair and on her clothes, and thorns stung the palms of her hands.

Somehow, these sensations seemed to be hitting her tenfold, in a manner she couldn't remember experiencing before in her life. From the moment Jean had disappeared from her arms the night had seemed to hone in, sharp as a dagger.

Andromeda carefully lifted herself up off the ground, pulling a splinter from her thumb before brushing herself off. Looking around into the night, it seemed to be growing ever darker. As Andromeda waited for her eyes to adjust, it dawned on her that no amount of blinking seemed to do the job.

"W-what?" She whispered, reaching out ahead of her, stepping forward. After only a few steps, the ground became smooth and untextured, and Andromeda spluttered… Jean wasn't the only thing that had vanished. Crouching so as not to return her bruised knees to the forest floor, Andromeda reached out her stinging fingers and pressed them to the ground.

It was like nothing she'd ever touched before, flat and numbing, there was no soil. It was more like the thought of soil.

Andromeda drew her hand back with a hiss of breath and sprang back to her feet. Her world, still so complete in her memory, seemed to be closing in around her. With a shiver running down her spine, Andromeda turned and began to sprint back toward the school. Her hands were becoming painful from the cold and her tears felt hot on her icy cheeks.

Andromeda stumbled back into the pumpkin patch, trampling soil and gourds. "Jean?!" She pleaded, once more in vain.

She had expected it, but she was horrified to see it, the castle she had grown up in was at once there and fading. It was all disappearing. What had Jean done to her?

It occured to Andromeda that since Jean's arrival everything had changed for her, all things which didn't involve Jean had seemed so periphery.

Hearing Jean say her name had been like hearing it for the first time, and when she had kissed her Andromeda might have believed that Jean was the only real thing.

"Oh, Merlin…" Andromeda braced a hand to her lips, feeling nauseous. "Not on your life Jean, no you don't."

She had to move fast.

* * *

Rubeus Hagrid had never felt so tired, he felt at once light and heavy as he finished his tea that night and had a mind to turn in early.

The floor creaked as he lifted himself up from his dining chair and made his way over to the cot.

"Good night, Scruff, ya 'ol geezer," Rubeus grumbled to his dog, who was perfectly still in the corner. The man had hardly known his pet to breath so quietly, but he paid him no mind. Not much seemed to matter now, but to lay down his head and return to some dreamier place.

And did a dreamier place not seem more like home?

BANG-BANG. His own front door was rattling in its frame under some stranger's hand. Ponderously, he made to open it. It very nearly woke him from his stupor.

"Young Miss. Black, is that you?" He asked, as he opened the door a crack.

"Is your fireplace connected to the floo?" She replied, he said nought but she pushed past him without another word.

"Tes' not fer students I'm afraid," He tried to explain, and glancing from her to his mutt in the corner he frowned. She seemed so bright, so vivid. Nearly blinding by comparison. Perhaps she was under some spell.

"Accio Floo Powder," she said, and the cupboard door exploded open as the small pot of powder whipped into her outstretched hand.

Rubeus sat on the bed, eyelids heavy.

"I'm sorry," she said to him, throwing a pinch into the fire. It was the only light left in the room, other than her.

In a flash of green it was gone, and she with it.

A dream.

He lay down his head.

* * *

"Hermione!" Harry called, and Hermione was surprised to see he had followed her. Sure he was less dense than Ron, but that wasn't exactly saying much. She had been making her way to the main entrance, desperate to get some fresh air before class.

"Is everything alright? I just…" She tried to summon up the explanation she had given for leaving breakfast. "The library," she finished lamely.

"Oh, is that where you forgot to feed Crookshanks?" He asked smiling, and she huffed.

"Can I help you, officer?" She asked, crossing her arms.

"I'm not trying to pry," he said, raising his hands in surrender and shrugging. "It's just, Ginny said—"

"Of course she did, I was wondering what brought on this sudden show of sensitivity."

"Am I that bad?" He asked, and she frowned.

"No, of course not. Thank you for coming to check on me, I'm just a little underslept. Forget the library I'd actually love some fresh air." They walked together toward her original destination.

"You're tired? You were practically bubbling over this morning." He stopped then and looked at her more closely.

"Well that was this morning, I don't know what to tell you. Maybe I ate something funny at breakfast." He continued to look at her oddly, and when he spoke Hermione was reminded how her friend was a bloody hound for intrigue.

"Your hair, what have you done to it?" He asked with his usual tact, Hermione pursed her lips.

"I've given up on it completely, as you well know."

"Oh," he said, missing his cue to stop talking about it. "It looks… bigger."

She attempted to laugh casually, but she could hear her own nerves. Although her hair tended to grow up and out, you could trust Harry to notice when it was that inch taller. She should've realised it would be the primary marker of the extra time which had passed for her in what for her friends had felt like one night. She felt foolish for not thinking of it.

"Maybe it's the humidity, I don't know. I hardly look in the mirror, is it that noticeable?"

"No, it looks… very nice," he said with the air of someone wanting to say something completely different. "Did you recognise the Beauxbaton students? They didn't look like any of the ones I'd seen before but you seemed to know them." Hermione had missed Harry, she really had, but she had not missed his paranoia.

"Did you see how Malfoy looked at them?" She asked, and immediately knew from his expression that she was going to regret saying it, although it did have the desired effect of throwing him completely off her scent.

"What? What about him? Seriously? I was watching them mostly and then you almost fell flat on your face. Do you think they're… Oh Hermione, what if they're imposters? What if they're with Malfoy? I mean the girl, she came right over and sat by us once they were introduced. But she said she'd heard about me from the tournament, do you think it was a rouse?"

"Wait, she did?" Hermione asked, shocked and a little annoyed at Andromeda's audacity.

"Forget that, tell me exactly what you saw Malfoy do," he said, with an intensity he'd reserved for the Slytherin since they'd returned to school.

"How was her English?" Hermione found herself asking.

"Focus: Malfoy."

"I'm just saying it would be helpful to know if she's actually French. And Harry, I know your theory on Malfoy and I'm not saying that his behaviour isn't suspicious but that doesn't mean… well it might not mean anything. Draco's always behaved in a way that's sort of shady. We've been down that rabbit hole before, and it's only ever been a distraction. Please, just forget him and focus on you lessons with Dumbledore, that's what the Order needs."

"You brought him up!" He complained, his expression mutinous. "This could be important."

"Did the girl say anything suspicious, or strange that could indicate something?" Hermione asked, feeling like an utter hypocrite preaching to Harry about focussing on defeating Voldemort while obsessing over her time travelling non-girlfriend.

"Not really," he conceded, pressing his mouth into a line. "Just that she likes the castle, and she asked us to show her around. She asked about you actually, if you were alright. She saw you rushing off."

"You should stay away from her, you shouldn't be too quick to trust strangers with things the way they are. If she really is an imposter, who knows what she's capable of."

Capable of something even Hermione had only managed through sheer dumb luck.

* * *

Andromeda knew she should have never returned to Hogwarts, not after her lucky escape from the school, but this was where the damn thing had led her and she could feel the pull of the magic still.

Under Albus Dumbledore's gaze, she had never been more fearful that she had made a mistake. What would happen to her in this place if she was recognised for what she was? What Jean had rendered her.

"Bonjour, to our two new students, Hogwarts is delighted to greet you for what I'm sure will be a fruitful exchange."

His attitude was light and congenial, and with a rush of relief, Andromeda realised that he was also utterly disinterested.

"Good day, 'Eadmaster," her classmate Hugo Mercier replied. "We are most grateful to 'ave been chozen for such an opportunity."

"Oui, of course. I can barely contain my excitement," Adela agreed.

And as the details of their arrangement were explained by another familiar face, Minerva McGonagall, Andromeda felt relief flood her as Dumbledore's focus was divided between them and the papers on his desk.

She couldn't have been happier to see someone looking preoccupied.

* * *

Hermione tipped her head low over her copy of Advanced Ancient Runes, she had spent weeks trapped in the past attempting to figure out how to get home to her own time, and she had concluded that it was near impossible. How had Andromeda done it? It was strange for Hermione to be back in class after so long dedicated purely to the study of time. It was a welcome change. She read furiously as she waited for Professor Babbling, part of her mind convinced that she would have catching up to do although logically she knew she had sat in this class only yesterday. As usual, time travel was never really over when it seemed.

"Allo." Speak of the devil. "You are Ginny's companion, oui? I recognize you from zees morning. Ginny was most 'elpful when I asked 'er for advice on zee different subjects at 'ogwarts. You know, I told 'er I like a challenge. She said 'ermione would know just what eet ees I needed, and you are 'ermione?" Andromeda grinned down at her, like a cat that got the cream. She had taken it upon herself to glamour her hair platinum blonde, and her strong bone structure looked blurred around the edges, but it was definitely her. Standing there in her shimmering blue uniform with an accent Hermione would've considered to be some ridiculous caricature if she hadn't become used to Fleur and her friends in fourth year.

"How are you here?" Hermione whispered, and Andromeda smile fell. She did an unconvincing job of looking confused.

"I come veet zee exchange, I'm Adela," she replied, throwing side eye at the students nearest them, a pair of Ravenclaws happily listing their favourite conspiracies.

"You're a student from France then?"

"Oui, pardonne, yes." Andromeda adjusted the books she was holding in her grip and looked uncomfortable.

"Oh, nice touch," Hermione said, eyes narrowed. "Well, then Adela, as a Gryffindor Prefect, it's my pleasure to welcome you to Hogwarts." She gave a blinding smile. "Have you had a meeting with your Head of House about subjects?"

"Ah, sadly no, I 'ave no 'ouse," she replied easily.

"Tut tut, that won't do," Hermione mused falsely, tapping her chin. "I know! We should take you to the Headmaster right away and get you sorted." Hermione sprung up from her seat and took hold of Andromeda's wrist, an excited smile on her face.

"Zee 'eadmaster? But 'e told us zat we could sit where ve liked," Andromeda said, clearly conflicted about openly resisting the tug of Hermione's hand as she allowed herself to be taken only a few halting steps.

"Well then it'll be up to him to coordinate a schedule for you, I promise he won't bite," Hermione said, bringing her smiling face closer to Andromeda's as they approached the door together. Her voice was lower and falsely reassuring as she added: "Especially since you have absolutely nothing to hide."

"Won't ve be een trouble for missing class?" Andromeda asked, her eyes wide and innocent. Hermione paused just as she pulled the door open and turned, she had completely forgotten about class, it had been so long since she was obligated to go it had fallen so easily to the wayside. Hermione glanced around and noticed the other students looking at them, naturally Andromeda had gained the attention of her peers, and Hermione who had been behaving strangely all day. Now, to miss class.

"I'm a Prefect, don't worry, as long as you're with me it's allowed," Hermione promised, daring any of her classmates to speak up, but they didn't even pretend not to give the two girls their undivided attention. Particularly with Hermione breaking rules in a much more public style than they were used to.

"Is that really the case, Ms. Granger?" A voice from behind her asked, and even Andromeda had the decency to look apologetic as Hermione whirled around.

"Professor Babbling," Hermione greeted, trying to look like the Teacher's Pet she frankly was. "I was just going to make sure Adela was registered for her classes." The Professor furrowed her brow.

"Five points from Gryffindor for bad lying," she sighed, breezing past them. "Please take a seat the pair of you, and if I see you trying to whisk Ms. Boucher away again I'll have your badge."

Aware that Babbling was to be taken at her word, Hermione hurried quickly to her seat without protest, and glared at Andromeda for taking the seat next to her.

"'Ermione, zat's a beet of a mouth full, eezn't eet?"

"How are you here?" Hermione repeated stubbornly.

"'Ow could I stay avay?" Andromeda asked in return and Hermione's gaze snapped to meet hers. The heat in Andromeda's eyes did something to Hermione's stomach. "Zee exchange vas such an exciting chance." Something like anticipation.

"Bugger off, Adela," Hermione grumbled, and reached into her bag for her ink pot.

"Can I borrow a quill?" She asked, and Hermione slammed her spare on the table between them, bracing herself for a long day. "Merci."

* * *

Hermione was beginning to see the Slytherin in Andromeda now, as she proved to be as slippery as a snake. Andromeda somehow managed to spend the entire day at Hermione's side, while never once giving Hermione the opportunity to question her alone, or to summon a confession out of her.

She had completely charmed all of Hermione's friends by lunch, and even though Harry liked her, Ginny still thought she was great. Hermione could barely keep Ginny onside half of the time, Andromeda's carry-on should've been abhorrent.

It was the most time they'd spent together at once since they'd met, and Andromeda insisted on playing this ridiculous role. Hermione had to watch Andromeda flirt with 80% of the school in her ridiculously provocative uniform, speaking in fractioned English with her absurd accent.

"'Ermione, do you 'ave a 'eadache?" Andromeda asked, as they sat down to dinner. Ginny had left them for a moment to ask Lovegood about a Charms essay.

Hermione's eyes were closed and she gently massaged her temples. "Aren't you tired?" She asked the other girl, who poured them each a glass of juice.

"You should learn to be patient, mon petite chou," Andromeda replied, sipping from her goblet. "I 'ave been patient weeth you, no?"

Hermione sensed some trepidation in Andromeda's tone that almost made her soften, but she pushed the feeling aside. She would help Andromeda to undo her mistake, but she could not encourage this fanciful denial. Terrible things happen to those who meddle with time.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't march up to the owlery and inform Dumbledore of your presence at once," Hermione said, taking no pleasure from the statement.

Andromeda's movements slowed like a cat trying not to draw attention to itself. For a moment Hermione struggled to read her, and then their eyes met, and Andromeda's hand was on Hermione's leg just out of view of their peers. "Because I'm not the one who fucked up, Jean. You are!" She hissed, her fingers digging into Hermione's leg. She had finally broken character, and she was angry. "How dare you judge me after what you've done! How dare you threaten me. Bloody uppity Gryffindor knowitall." Her words dripped like acid from her lips but her expression and movements betrayed nothing as she stood. "Let's get this over with. Meet me in the second floor bathroom when you've finished eating."

With that, she made her way to the Ravenclaw table to sit with the other Beauxbaton student.

Hermione looked to the staff table, suddenly concerned at the prospect of drawing the Headmaster's attentions with Andromeda's words banging around her head, but he had yet to arrive.

"We need to work out some sort of system for you to communicate these tips to me before tomorrow mate, because if I strike out and you get another bloody O I'm going to lose the head," Ron complained as he and Harry arrived to dinner.

"Alright, Hermione?" Harry asked, clutching his copy of Advanced Potion Making as Ron eyed it greedily.

"Oh, I'd forgotten about you and that bloody book," she sighed.

Ron laughed. "You only made us sit through a twenty minute lecture about the thing on monday. Where's your shadow?"

"Hm?" She asked.

Harry gestured to the empty seat and full goblet beside her.

"Oh, Adela?" Hermione asked. "She said something about 'wondering 'ow you english eat so many 'eavy meals.' Then she went to sit with the other exchange student."

"They're not with any houses, I suppose that rules them out for Quidditch," Harry mumbled.

"You won't be looking for too many new faces on the team this year anyway, will you?" Ron said, a little shiftily.

"He has to be fair, Ronald! You can't just expect Harry to give you a place on the team because your friends."

"Oi! First of all, not just because we're friends," he imitated her voice. "It may have escaped your notice, but I did make the team fair and square last year! And B, he can give the positions to whoever he likes."

Harry looked uncomfortable as Ron went on. "There are alot of people applying, it'd be unfair not to let them have a shot."

"Bloody hell," Ron grumbled. "Save your bad news for the morning and just let me eat in peace, I've enough on my mind between bloody Non-verbal this, and Malfoy is a Deatheater that!"

"Ron!" Hermione complained. "Keep your voice down."

"Why?" Harry smiled grimly. "He's probably not wrong."

"You mean you're probably not wrong," Hermione shot back.

"You lot back at your whispering?" Ginny asked, rejoining them.

Harry spilt soup down his front.

* * *

Dumbledore never showed at dinner, which in light of his behaviour in recent weeks wasn't unusual, Hermione could only hope that Andromeda really could be trusted and that the Headmaster's absence would be positive for what was to come. Daunting as the prospect of taking the next step without the man's input was as she had become accustomed to it in recent weeks.

"Alone at last," Andromeda said as Hermione walked into the girls bathroom.

Hermione shushed her, holding a finger to her own lips.

"Homenum revelio," Hermione whispered, and Andromeda snorted.

"You in the Order?" She asked, grinning blithely and Hermione stiffened.

"Did the Order send you?" Hermione pressed, casting a hasty muffliato over the door. Andromeda tilted her head, as though taken aback. It occurred to Hermione that she may have said the wrong thing.

"Did they send you?" Andromeda said, her blonde eyebrows raised. Hermione tried to suck the words back into her mouth.

"Did who send me?" Hermione breathed, trying for casual and failing miserably. She pocketed her wand.

"The Order of the Phoenix, you know… the Gryffindor graduate club? I can't believe they're still going."

"They're not!" Hermione said too quickly and Andromeda smiled at her knowingly. Hermione crossed her arms.

"Relax, the only thing I know about the Order is that for an underground organisation they have a real penchant for group photos, and great big glowy Patronus Charms. But what do I know, right? I'm just a Slytherin Pureblood with blood ties to known Death Eaters and a Sapphic streak a mile wide," Andromeda said, clearly completely aware of the effect her attitude was having on Hermione, who was surprised Andromeda's blue uniform hadn't caught fire under the heat of her glare.

"What am I going to do with you?" Hermione asked the infuriating girl through gritted teeth.

"What would you like to do with me?" Andromeda asked, her bedroom eyes narrowed in a wicked challenge. Hermione summoned what little resistance she had, attempting to list the five principal exceptions to Gamp's Law of elemental transfiguration to recentre herself emotionally. After a pause she took another breath and felt noticeably calmer.

"Alright, Black," she sighed. "I'm going to need you to give me some straight answers about how you got here so that we can work on getting you home."

"Calling me Black, that's a bit edgy, but I'm going by Adela Boucher. Not that I don't like edgy, it's just that you never asked. What's your surname Hermione? Goodbody? Lovejoy?"

"It's Granger, actually."

"Of course it is, of the Dagworth-Grangers?"

"No. I thought we'd established I'm Muggleborn."

"It's really only been hours for you, hasn't it Jean?" Andromeda asked, glossing over to a preferred subject, and gazing at her with a dreamy expression.

"I fell asleep to you, and I woke up to you," Hermione shrugged, not correcting her on the use of the alias. Andromeda began to step closer to her. Hermione realised too late she was backed into the sink.

"Did you think about me when you fell asleep last night?"

"How did you get here?" Hermione asked again, but Andromeda was having none of it.

"After I'd finished searching, and panicking, and losing my temper that last night on earth when you kissed me goodbye, you best bet I thought of you, Jean. I wasn't sure I would wake up, but I'd be damned if I didn't dream of you. I dreamt of your shaking lips, and your blistering skin, and your giant, fucking perfect hair till you were the last thing left."

They were alone at last, and Hermione wondered why she had ever wanted it. Andromeda's hands were braced on the sink behind Hermione, and their thighs were pressed together.

"How long ago was that?" Hermione asked, instead of saying she was sorry or melting into a puddle like she wanted to do. She refused to be sidetracked.

"Twenty or so years, since you ask. Or maybe it never happened, something tells me you don't have the answers." Andromeda was close to her now, too close, she could reach behind Hermione and wash her hands in the basin Hermione was leaning against if she really wanted to.

"I meant for you, how long did it take you to find me? Through all of space and time?"

"Worried you've been outsmarted, 'Ermione?"

Hermione begrudged the laugh that rose in her throat, but she couldn't help but smile despite a valiant effort. "You're ridiculous," Hermione chastised, she could feel the cool silk of Andromeda's skirt skimming over her thigh just above her knee and she practically jumped out of her skin at the touch.

"Do I frighten you?" Andromeda asked, and her tone was something Hermione couldn't place.

"I can't tell if you're mad or just insane," Hermione complained. "This is serious, what have you done? What are you doing? What were you thinking?"

"I want to know if I can trust you, Jean, but after a day watching you, you haven't given me a single reason to. That aside, I thought it was fairly obvious what I was thinking." Andromeda punctuated the sentence by letting the breath of her words tumble over Hermione's lips, but the Gryffindor bared her teeth and pushed the Pureblood away.

"What happened to me wasn't my fault, but for you to risk everything, just for… I don't know for this," Hermione hissed, clearly outraged. Andromeda put her hand on her chest where Hermione had pushed her and looked hurt. "Do you have any idea what you're risking by being here? You can't be here. You've already seen too much, and you've been seen. I recognised you, Dumbledore will definitely recognise you." Hermione tried to ignore the way the too beautiful girls unchanged eyes were welling up. She stayed where she was, refusing to take her into her arms as she had before. "Look Andromeda, I'm sorry. It's good to see you, but you can't stay. You have to go back." Hermione moved away from the sink, and made for the door. "Come on, this is it. Now." Andromeda didn't move, her head was bowed. "I mean it," Hermione said, sounding petulant to herself she knew, because she didn't. She didn't mean it.


	4. Hugo

Andromeda was tempted to let her leave, to say no more. How much could she tell this girl, how much should she tell her?

"You don't understand," Andromeda lamented, and the tears which had been threatening ever since Jean had taken up her caustic little front began to spill in earnest. "I shouldn't be here, and not for the reasons you think. I shouldn't even want to talk to you about it, this is all your bloody fault. You're the reason I'm like this."

Jean was still by the door, clearly conflicted as Andromeda was herself.

"This is for your safety too, you know," the Gryffindor persisted weakly. "Time is no one's plaything. It's unpredictable, and unstable... Anything could happen to you now, to us."

"Jean," Andromeda pleaded, and breaking like a wave, Jean came to her at last. She took Andromeda in her arms, and just as she had before Andromeda buried herself in Jean's shoulder and fell apart.

"It's alright," Jean said. "You shouldn't have used magic if you didn't understand it, it's dangerous. Have you had side effects?"

"That's rich coming from you! Ruddy Pandora incarnate." Andromeda wasn't about to confess her theory that she herself was the bloody side effect.

"How long have you been in this time Andromeda, by yourself?" Jean asked.

Andromeda knew she should be more measured in her replies, but she'd missed her friend, and she craved a conversation with someone who understood her at all. Even if she couldn't explain. "Merlin you're like a dog with a bone. I haven't been by myself. When I found out what year it was I was still in Paris-"

"Why would you travel to the future in Paris?" Jean interrupted, baffled.

Andromeda felt weak. "There's so much you don't know, things I can't fully explain. Honestly, things you don't need to worry about. You, you've got it all wrong. No one's recognised me, I promise," she insisted through her tears, her voice muffled by Jean's Gryffindor jumper. "My being here... it's not going to change anything. Not for any of you." Andromeda was aware she was showing many of her cards, but the rest would have to wait.

"Let's not think about it right now... we'll probably have to get you to Dumbledore at some point anyway," Jean said.

"No! No, we can't go to him. Trust me," Andromeda lifted her head to look at Jean then.

"You really think he hasn't already… Noticed you? Recognised you?"

She released Jean and palmed away her tears hastily as if she had just been caught and had time to hide them.

"I won't be recognised, it helps that I'm a Pureblood," Andromeda sniffed, and took another step back. "We all look the same... Merlin, listen to me, this is why I needed to avoid you. One look at you and I'm singing like a bird. I've told you as much as I can, I've trusted you, can't you just try to do the same."

Amazingly, Jean had the audacity to look stung by this. "I haven't outed you yet," Jean defended.

"Because you trust me?" Andromeda asked, quirking a brow.

Jean looked as though she was in pain. "I'd trust you alot more if you could tell me what is going on."

"Why do I get the impression that you're accustomed to being the one with all the answers?"

"I...Say we forget about how you got here for a moment. If we're not going to Dumbledore, then what now? Can you at least tell me what your plan is for getting home?" Hermione asked.

Andromeda let out a shaky sigh, not having the words necessary to explain that there was no home for her to get back to. That she had made a lucky escape from the only home she'd ever known. "What was that you said about finding you?" Andromeda stepped closer to Jean, changing tack. She allowed all traces of her momentary fragility to evaporate, feeling something raw rise up in its wake. "Through all of space and time? Did you mean for it to sound so dreadfully romantic?"

"You didn't come here for me."

"What do you want me to say? I came here… because of you… But, no, I didn't do it for you. I came here for me. It just so happens that now that I'm here... you're all I've got."

"I don't want to force you to do anything you don't want to do Andromeda, but the longer you stay here, the harder it's going to be for you to go back without having your memory modified in some way… And that's assuming we can even find the means."

"Merlin, do you ever stop? Are you going to summon up some faith, or are you going to keep torturing me like this?" At this rate, Jean was going to drive her out.

Before Jean could reply, they were interrupted by the sound of the door to the bathroom opening.

Andromeda's first instinct was to hide, but remembering herself she began to babble. "'Ow will I make eet through zee rest of zis exchange if I am already so 'omesick. I should 'ave let zem send Michelle instead, but I was so excited to see 'Ogwarts. I'm sure you 'ave better things to do zen listen to me babble, sweet girl, but I am grateful."

"It's alright, A-Adela. As a Prefect, it's the least I can do to try and make you feel welcome."

The two young Slytherins who had just happened upon them glanced over with some interest, Adela was a new curiosity in the school so they were likely to be on the hunt for details.

"Merci, 'Ermione."

"Come on. Why don't you show me where you're staying. You'll feel better after some rest."

* * *

Hermione was not done with Andromeda yet, but it was too dangerous to speak so openly in the halls, so they carried on in silence. Walking like this was awkwardly reminiscent of their night together just hours before. She could only wonder how long ago it was for Andromeda as their conversation had only raised more questions than it had answered. Andromeda was as much an enigma as she had ever been.

"Do you want to see ze boudoir?" Andromeda asked, stopping suddenly.

She gestured to a faded tapestry of a unicorn collecting pine cones. When she pulled it aside, a door was revealed.

"This is where you're staying?" Hermione asked.

Andromeda was about to answer, but they were both silent as the door opened.

"Ooh lala, Adela! Mais t'étais où? J'ai quelque chose pour toi. Entrez, entre!" He gestured Andromeda in, and she smiled and did as instructed, ducking under his arm as he moved to hold the tapestry. [where were you? I have something for you. Come in!]

"Je suis desole," she mumbled, then she turned and waved goodbye to Hermione. [sorry]

"I am 'Ugo, it eez nice to meet you," the Beauxbaton boy said, extending his hand.

"Quel est la chose?" Andromeda was asking behind him, and he turned distractedly. [Where's the thing?]

"I'm Hermione, I…"

"On ze table," he told Andromeda. "I'm sorry for my sister, she 'asn't been 'erself. I 'ope she gave you no trouble?"

"Y-your sister?"

"Oui, pardon me for a moment."

Andromeda approached the table and frowned. "'Ugo!" She cried. "Ferme la porte!" [shut the door]

"Good night. Au revoir," he sighed, and he allowed the tapestry to rustle back into place, before a click informed Hermione that the door was shut. [Good bye]

* * *

Hermione had to tell someone, she had to talk to someone. She had thought that before, with only Dumbledore to confide in, that she might go mad. But now, Andromeda had isolated Hermione among her own friends.

How could Andromeda's alias have a brother? And how could Andromeda speak so much about trust and faith and then tell Hermione so little? Did she not see what she was asking?

For Hermione to keep this secret as she learned more and more of her own future, making it impossible for her to return home without unrivaled consequences. But then, if she didn't return home, surely the results could be even worse.

But Andromeda had insisted there wouldn't be any wider consequences.

Hermione walked through the common room in a daze, making her way to her dormitory.

Andromeda couldn't know that… Could Hermione really go to bed and simply allow this absurd charade to continue?

No… no. Hermione pulled out some quill and parchment.

She would have to at least do some homework first.


End file.
